


New Arrivals

by IE (Innocent_eyeS)



Category: RimWorld (Video Game)
Genre: Bestiality, Combat, Drama, F/F, F/M, Narrative, Nudity, Onomatopoeia, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:16:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocent_eyeS/pseuds/IE
Summary: If you hadn't guessed, this game inspired my piece entitled Recolonization, and it really inspires my storywriting in general. So, have some more kink, with a bit more theme. But only a bit. As a little aside, all titles come directly from the game itself.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	1. Game Over

**Author's Note:**

> If you hadn't guessed, this game inspired my piece entitled Recolonization, and it really inspires my storywriting in general. So, have some more kink, with a bit more theme. But only a bit. As a little aside, all titles come directly from the game itself.

I know what you're thinking.  
No. Literally, I do. It may be a side effect of what they've done to me. What they're _still_...doing to me.  
And I can't really explain how I've let myself get **_this low_**. But there's definitely no way out for me, now. I'll just have to...

One sec.  
Here they come again.

_Uhn. Ingh. Spltch-splat. Oof._ <strike>et cetera, et cetera</strike>

Where was I? _Ha_ahh, yes. That. Being a broodmother for a GMO-race of giant bugs only has one perk: I haven't been eaten alive. I suppose it was my fearless wonder that got me screwed over in the first place...and then my useful body that got me screwed _over and over again_ since. From what we've known about the bugs, reproduction was somehow sourced to a giant, immobile polyp. We called it a hive body, but...I suppose you could call me that too, now. _Ahem_.  
We...knew that this thing contained a sort of sustenance for the creatures, and really that was our main reason for invading their hostile environment. The last time I saw the suns, they were hiding beyond a massive plume of toxic gases that had overtaken the region weeks before. I guess everyone else was surprised that I _volunteered_ for this mission, but considering how long it's been without my return, they must have given up hope, or died. Whatever. Like I said, I'm still alive, in the end.

_Ingt._

I swear, if I didn't know any better, I'm turning _into_ a hive, myself. I can't remember the last time I could see my bellybutton, and I'm **_sure_** my boobs have shrunk since Tuesday. What am I talking about? This cave is so far underground, it'd be psychotic to judge where the suns are.

Huh? Oh, I guess you wouldn't have known me back then. _Back then._ I say that like it really _was_ ages ago. _It can't have been more than a few months, right?_ I guess you could say I've blossomed ..._hatched? _...<strike>cracked</strike> out of my shell since we landed on this _rim world_. I mean, it _must_ have a name considering how many traders frequent it, but... That wasn't my area of expertise. _In fact_, I wasn't the most social of butterflies at **all**. A **real** nerd for horticulture. _I mean_, it was practically my _**job**_ to keep everyone alive, especially when the light started to fade and the air became _**poisonous**_. We were _all_ getting cabin fever before the hydroponics bays shut down, but that was the last straw, for me. The air in there was so refreshing, it was like going outside without the threat of noxious build-up causing irreversible nerve damage. Sure, the sun lamp was hardly a replacement for _real light_, but...

I have to admit, the phosphorescent ambience of this cave really does a trick for soothing the mind. If the constant chittering of megascarabs climbing all over me and this pillar of slime I'm stuck to wasn't enough to drive me mad by now, I'd have to thank that eerie glow over my right shoulder. Believe me, I've tried moving, but my hands and feet just don't want to work. My neck is fine. Optimal motility there. _Thanks for askin'_. Not that I was thinking of _leaving_. Do you know how long it took to earn their trust?  
That was a joke.  
Not long at all. They're simple things, really. To a fault. But somehow I think free movement of a breeder-slave is an insult to their society. If I had to guess, that is. We hadn't really _studied_ the insects to know if this sort of behavior was common to them. There wasn't much _to_ know, until a group of them burrowed into our base one day. Oh, we've known about _this colony_ since Day 1, but it was _kill or be killed_ when you hear your crazed roomie lobbing Molotovs down a hallway just to slow down the sleek spelopedes trying to carpet-bomb you with their grungy undercarriage because their eyesight is too well-developed to mark your prone, cowering body as a threat while there's a perfectly psychotic bitch heading the attack behind you.

I'm sorry, that was rude of me. Sam is a wonderful person. I'm sure she's survived whatever's gone on at the base since I left. She always seemed to have a plan, after all. I never had any clue into it, of course. But that's just how she was. Guarded. Never took anyone's input to heart. Nope. Nothing ever bothered her, either. Well...that's a fib, that is. There was this one time, Thompson tried to pull a prank on her, and...

**_Chkidd-tidd_**_. Scripp. YEEP! **Schl**orp. Pluppf. **Schl**orp. Plupf. Haah. **Schlip** drip schlupf._ _UNf-uhh._

...  
...I really should...keep my ears peeled for _those_ lumbering beasties. _Every time I forget to close my legs_, they eat me out of house and home. _I'm not even producing that much_. Megaspiders really are OP. At least they're not digging around with their spiny mouthparts. That tube they use is _much more erotic_...  
Oh, please. You had to have figured _that much_ was going on. Why else do you think I'd wanna be _first_ to search the caves? These were the only animals left for miles. And..._and_...they're self-sustaining. They're much better off than our lousy base was doing. And I have needs that no _human_ can satisfy. Not even Sam.  
But, I can't just leave her under the bus like that. I mean, without Sam, I don't think I'd ever have gotten this far. She helped me in so many ways that, looking back, there isn't a thing I would have changed. Except, maybe, to keep our secret going long enough to not be ostracized by the group. I mean, _please_, solitary confinement? The hardest part was coming out of it and finding out that all of our animals were either sick or **dying**. I practically died that day, myself. How would you feel if all of your past lovers were deteriorating from the inside out?  
I meant the memorable ones.

_Tsk._

...I guess you deserve the full story, at least. _Fine_. I have some time before this next clutch sorts itself out.

_It all started with..._


	2. Crashlanded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed Jackson to Thompson. There is no Jackson. Jackson only lives on within this note.

"Abandon ship! I repeat, abandon ship!"—

_What's that? TMI?  
I guess I could fast-forward a **bit**. But don't complain to me if things get confusing._

_Psssssh._

Ugh. I had no idea these pods were made to self-destruct like stolen war machines. Look at this, there's nothing left! Just a piece of scrap metal and some components. _What are we supposed to do with those?_  
"Everyone alright?"  
"Thompson?"  
"Yeah? Who's askin'?"  
"Uh, Amelia...Flais."  
"Doesn't ring a bell. Maybe I'll know your face, though—"

**_Heu_**_rrrk-spltch-splat._

"Hey, who's that pukin' over there?" Thompson made his way over to me, instead.  
_Pt-too._ "I'm fine. I'm still waking up, is all." Cryptosleep: the only way to travel.  
"Yeah, it'll pass in a few hours. Speakin' of," he paused to gaze upward, squinting. My eyes naturally followed, and the beauty of a binary star caught my wonder. In all my years of space-travel, I'd never gotten to see such a sight from so near. "Careful," he broke me out of my daze. "Twice the chance to go blind."  
I looked away, "Uh huh," glancing around the scenery then. It was lush with vegetation, and there were mountains cropping up like icebergs in this flat grade. We were actually quite lucky to have a soft landing.  
"You got a name, milk duds?"  
I frowned at him. _Where did that come from?_ If only to keep that sort of nickname from sticking, I gave him my credentials. "Dr. Melanie McGrath, Taxonomist."  
"Melanie, huh?"  
"Dr. McGrath, pl-"  
"_I'd_ say you're melony, alright~"  
"What?" His smile was creeping me out. Thank Randy we were interrupted just then.  
"Hey, lovebirds." _Ugh. Really?_ "Either of you know where we are?" Amelia, was it? Yeah, she looked about as seasoned as a summer cabbage. Probably some kid stuffed in an escape pod by her legal-guardian-of-choice.  
Thompson, on the other hand, was clearly used to life among the stars. He carried himself with obvious authority, too. "I'd say we made it to a world in the outer rim. Definitely overshot our destination. I don't recognize these constellations."  
We both thought it, but she was the first to say it: "Uhhh, it's the middle of the day. How can you see—"  
"I have a bionic eye. Comes in _real_ handy in my line of work."  
I swallowed against a burp and finally decided to stand up. "Oh yeah? And what, pray tell, is that?" Granted, I'd never seen either of these two before. We were all on transport, so the likelihood of two randoms knowing anything about each other was extremely rare.  
"I'm a merc," he answered, unabashedly to my surprise.  
"Oh. What do you sell?" She was so innocent, I secretly chalked her up as the first of us to get picked off by native predators.  
Just as I was about to explain to her the subtle difference between a merchant and a soldier, Thompson cried out suddenly, "Sweet Cassandra's cufflinks! I know you. You're NG."  
"Huh? Engie?"  
I snorted.  
Thompson continued, "You hung around Sector B19, picking pockets."  
"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do, report me?"  
"Excuse me. _Excuse me."_ Not that I cared what would come of this discovery, but I had to stop them. "Can we just focus on our circumstances right now? We should probably find a shelter and pool together whatever we brought with us."  
Amelia crossed her arms while the adult among them turned toward me. "Good thinking, Melons."  
"Wh-" I checked myself to make sure I wasn't sporting some sort of wardrobe malfunction, and then it occurred to me. _"What else can you see with that eye of yours?"_  
His smile grew. "Plenty."  
I scoffed and covered my chest with my arms. Amelia softened up and started to snicker. "What're you laughin' at, _Engie_?" That shut her up, it did.  
"Well, I've got three pieces of armor," Thompson spoke up, walking back over to his capsule debris, "a pistol, a rifle, and a ton of MREs."  
Crap. Turns out he was smarter than he sounded. I had been fully prepared to charge into the wilderness and live off of berries or some such. "I brought...some first aid kits and a knife." My eyes wandered across our nearer surroundings and I started to think aloud. "There's some downed trees over there. In fact, if we use some steel from the pods, we could make a crude axe, I wager."  
The silence that followed brought our eyes upon Engie's corner. She was snuggling a cat, oblivious to the task at hand.  
"You brought your pet cat on a survival mission?"  
She looked at me like I had said something indecent. "_Mr. Fluffy is not a pet._ He is a well-mannered individual."  
Thompson, on the other hand, tried her patience with his remark. "If he eats our meals, I'll fricassee him over a campfire."  
"NO!"


	3. Constraining Clothes

As humorous as it was, their bickering got old quick, so I resolved myself to at least get some work done. The further I walked away, the louder they seemed to get, so the wilderness just became that much more inviting. I'd even entertained the idea of disappearing on my own. I'd set up a lean-to, live off the land; it'd be great. Who needs social interaction?  
It was a thought. A naïve one, in hindsight.

_Oh, I'm sure you'd love to hear how I took on a den-dwelling clan of giant insects with nothing but a plasteel knife and one layer of synthread, every scrumptious detail of having those ripped to shreds while the filthiest phallus you've ever seen gives every disease on the planet to my genitals.  
_ _I'm sorry, TMI? I'm trying to tell a story here. What you're looking at is just the after-party.  
_ _Anyway..._

I guess my unofficial job became hauling timber between Point A and Point B. By my third trip, Amelia was nowhere to be seen. By my fourth trip, I decided to ask Thompson about her.  
He'd taken his shirt off, but that wasn't really what startled me. Because he'd taken his pants off as well. In fact, all he had on now was a helmet and boots and that rifle of his slung on his back. And the worst thing about it was that he was lugging around _large quantities of steel_ like it was no problem at all. He had the muscle for it, that's for sure. But I had to _steel_ myself, just to be as casual as he was. "H-hey, T-Thompson? You haven't seen Amelia around, h-have you?"  
The very second he turned to face me, my eyes went where I did not want them to go, and then whizzed away after just _long enough_ to have _it_ burned into my memory. Great. Unfortunately, I could see his smile from the corner of my eye. All he said was, "The cat?"  
Fuck, he was thick, too. "N-no... The girl. _Engie._ It's just that, we've got a lot of stuff to carry and—"  
"Oh, her. Nah, she won't carry a can of beans."  
Finally, something to focus my attention on. "Excuse me?"  
"She doesn't like hauling stuff around. She thinks it's dumb." Thompson seemed a bit lax saying that.  
I, on the other hand, was ready to slit the bitch's throat. "I bet she thinks cleaning and putting out fires is dumb too, huh?"  
He shrugged and started walking out toward what looked like an abandoned hut, still cradling that mound of steel. "Grab that pile for me?" he nodded at the ground, like it was **no big deal**. But some part of me wanted to make up for _NG's_ laziness, and the second I picked up a piece of steel, the whole thing came with it, like it was as light as wood. _Hmh._  
I followed close in tow, and Thompson continued talking, something about fixing up the shack where we were headed. I didn't hear much of it. My eyes had gravitated to those alternately flexing buttocks he'd put on show for me. He was tall enough, too, that the butt of his rifle didn't cover his own. I woke up again as he crouched and the metal clinked against a floor made of the same. We were mostly surrounded by steel walls, but there wasn't any roofing. And he was just talking about having given Engie his pistol and her going off into the woods, and...

_Oh, you fucking wish. Pervert._

"_Thompson,_ she needs to help us out, here." Meanwhile, half of me paid attention to the work he started on. Sparks flew, and his drill was hard to talk over, but he didn't waste a second getting every wall neatly in place. He even set up a pair of doors, and then began propping up a roof <strike>as if out of nowhere.</strike>  
"She's decent at crafting, bit of construction, _loves_ art—"  
"Yeah, because a _spoiled, teenaged artist_ is ex**act**ly what we need," I spat back in the dimming space.  
He sighed. "I sent her off to look for any steel that landed further out. She'll bring it here thinking that she's gonna make a wind turbine with it." Wait, and she fell for that? "_Don't worry_. I've dealt with her type before."  
"I-" I had to say, that's ingenious. Granted, one thing stuck out like a sore thumb. "Why a wind turbine?"  
He smiled, "It'll take a lot of steel."  
"_You sly dog._" I started to rethink leaving. Electricity sounded rather persuasive.

_Yeah, I'm sure you were waiting for a heat wave to force me underground..._

"So, what? When she brings all the materials back, she'll just hand over the work to you?" I couldn't think for her, but this seemed like a one-use trick.  
Thompson smiled and opened the door, his body blinding me as it caught the only source of light I hadn't noticed was missing for the past few minutes. Every feature was chiseled out by the angle of it, casting high-contrast shadows as he turned aside, _knowingly_ putting _it_ out there. "Somehow, I don't think she'll mind watching."


	4. Wanderer Joins

I never saw Amelia return, but judging by the growing pile of steel outside, she must have been working. And, I know what you're thinking. _Don't worry about it, Mel. You've got a male stripper working home improvement in front of an audience of one. Bask in it. Enjoy yourself._ Well, I've got news for you: That one piece of him that makes him a man—the one that drains bloodflow from his brain—doesn't really appeal to me.  
Don't get me wrong. Being around a working man turns me on in ways I can scarcely understand. A strong back playing a ribcage like fingers to the piano. A firm butt supported by hamstrings that etch out the contours of each thigh. The slick smear of sweat whenever sunlight graced that body. The scent, the visuals did one thing to me, and it settled in the frustration that I lacked private, soundproof quarters to deal with it.  
Men are just...so animalistic, it pains me to consider opening myself up to their simple minds. Thompson especially proved that case. He may be a tactical individual, and he may be dedicated to a task, but from the conversations we've had that just means he's been coming onto me from the start. _And I'd thought I'd made it clear to him how annoying that was._  
I need an intellect. To get past the raw, physical side of it, even emotions won't fool me. I need _depth_, someone with a backstory worth reading. I need... _I need..._

_Shut up. I've obviously changed, so fuck off.  
And stop interrupting._

I saw her out of the corner of my eye. I thought maybe the suns were playing tricks with me, but sure enough there was a person lithely stepping out from the brush. She looked used to the outdoors in ways that made my ankles hurt to watch, and though being captivated by her presence had made me forget my duties in lugging wood from Point B to Point C, thank Cassandra she was a friendly, because I let her get so near, she could have stabbed me with my own knife.  
"Need some help?" she asked, just steps from arm's reach.  
I looked dumb as a boomrat in the shadow of a meteorite. "I...d'uh _sure__,_" I sputtered out like a boomrat realizing its narrowed choices. She was a couple inches shorter than me but much more fit, enough to be noticeable under her flak vest. I guessed Thompson would fall for her like a chunk of space-rock. But the second she ducked down to grab a cord of wood for herself, my eyes focused on the beast tailing her, and I exploded in a shriek like a boomrat being crushed by the weight of unfortunate odds. "Look out!"  
The stealthy creature looked to its master, and she looked back to affirm the false alarm, lifting wood casually and making me into an utter fool for having dropped mine. "You know a warg when you see one," she judged rightly by my actions. "Don't worry. He's trained." She gave my frail, tattered appearance an assuring grin, then called back to her _pet_. "C'mere, Flint. _Haul._"  
I kept frozen as the beastly, mechanical frame of a canine approached me, claimed a gentle bite on the wood pile at my feet, then walked off like it knew which way was camp.  
"Flint's a good boy," my strange new friend told me quietly. "Wouldn't hurt anyone 'less I told him to."  
"We, uh... We should probably warn our sniper about him, first..."

Sam and I shared some gossip on our way over, enough to dull down the surprise of what our _sniper_ standing erect might look like. He was too occupied indoors to hear us coming, though. Probably for the better. Engie met us first.  
"_Neat,_" she said, looking over the well-trained death-machine as it plunked the wood down.  
"Sam, this is Engie. Engie, Sam," I introduced. My hands had been left empty, but Sam offered a weak salute after placing her load down.  
"_Actually,_ it's _Amelia,_" she responded, clearly annoyed.  
"Sorry, yeah," I apologized. The last thing I needed was more people using _my_ unofficial nickname, so I really did respect Amelia's aversion to hers, <strike>even if it was so perfect.</strike> "Thompson calls her that," I tried explaining, to her chagrin.  
"Hey, no worries. _My real name is Samwise,_" she said, coaxing a chuckle out of Amelia and a questionable look from myself. Sam just met my eyes and shook her head swiftly. _Ah, a joke._  
The warmth of the meeting finally reached out to the man in our midst, who was suddenly more than willing to join us outside. "Don't think I don't hear you talking about me," he spoke as his body presented itself.  
_ Ahem, **hard**ly._  
Sam didn't miss a beat, stepping up to him to offer a handshake, while Amelia and I just gawked at the _cocky_ intrusion. "You look pleased to meet a new face," she jabbed, plainly inspecting his attentive _sidearm_ once their hands came together.  
Thompson took it further, pulled her body into his, and cupped his other hand where no sane woman would be at ease from a perfect stranger. I scoffed, but looking to Amelia I saw jealousy and scoffed again. Sam didn't seem to move, either. She only turned to answer the incessant growl from her warg. "Easy, Flint," she spoke calmly, though I could tell her footing was off from how firmly that hand clutched her. "Tommy here's just frisking a fellow soldier like a good guard. Ain't that right, Tommy?"  
I almost couldn't watch them, how Thompson's smile dipped and he gently loosed his grip and uncurled his fingers from her groin. "Yeah," he choked out before finally relaxing, though his posture...**his posture**... was still as stiff as before. "No weapons here."  
The two of them slowly separated as they shared a stern understanding of one another, eye-to-eye. I initially figured Thompson had fooled _her;_ his bionic upgrade would have made an act of frisking into the perfect cover for feeling someone up. But at the time, I was missing something. All I'd learned was that they'd settled a sort of _mutual respect_ for each other just then.  
"So, Melons—" _ugh—_ "your friend got a name?"  
They both looked at me, Sam a bit more shyly before she replied to him herself. "You can call me Sam. I saw your pods fall and figured I could find some supplies, found you all instead. Hope you don't mind my imposin', but I could sure use a place to shack up. And, seein' how you've got a shack..." she smiled politely, hands quaintly tucking into her pockets.  
"Oh!" I felt obliged to speak up. "Of course! More help is needed around here!" I said, deliberately avoiding eye contact with Engie. From the corner of my eye, she still seemed distracted anyhow.  
Thompson reasoned aloud. "I guess I should get to work on a fourth bed."  
"Wait, you made us beds?" Color me impressed.  
"Oh, no, that's fine. Me an' Flint can just sleep on the ground."  
"Ground's cold, hard steel in there. I'll make you a bed."  
"Is there a mattress, too? And pillows?" I was growing more curious now.  
"It's all taken care of."  
Engie joined the conversation finally. "All we have is wood and metal. I think I'd rather sleep on the grass, don't you?"  
I slowly began to agree. But Thompson kept trying to sell us his wooden wonders.

_Not that one. Sam had curbed that appetite of his~  
What? Of course I know how she did it. Sam and I have no secrets._


	5. Disturbed Sleep

Our first night was...awkward, to say the least. You'd probably think no one could be tired after eight months of cryptosleep, but it's a lot different when you're jolted out of it instead of eased. As skeptical as I was, I couldn't guess how Thompson did it, but his beds were _actually_ comfortable. Well, mine was, I mean. _I only slept in mine._  
I wasn't any more bothered by his nudity when I wasn't forced to notice it. _He didn't make any moves on me._ As far as I could tell, he was a perfect gentleman all night. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me, and for that reason alone I couldn't stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. Planetary Time, that is.  
I was knocked out from the moment I tucked myself under those unbelievable sheets. Then, as soon as REM hit me, I snapped to and looked around the room. Pitch blackness only allowed me to see shapes, and without sitting up I could only see lumps on the other beds and some on the floor. I know we brought our meals inside, and the med kits. You know, important stuff. Then I remembered Sam's _pet_ and figured it would account for a lot of my anxiety, and after laying there thinking about it until I succumbed to slumber once more, the process would repeat.

Morning finally broke the cycle with our little bunker gaining a tinge of color. Before anyone else even rolled over, I forced myself up from my bed, trudged toward the doorway, and stepped outside. As brief a moment as it soon proved, I took pleasure in being alone. I looked for the suns, and instead my eyes caught the trees glowing bright green, and just as I started off on a stroll, a voice behind me interrupted my decision. It was Sam's.  
"You're up early," she greeted.  
I turned around so quick, I almost tripped. "What? Oh. I couldn't sleep."  
"Aww, poor thing," she said, wearing the faintest grin.  
I scowled and turned my back to her.  
The next time she spoke, she was much nearer, practically beside me. "You can sleep in my bed, if you want."

_You know, thinking back on it, I can't really be sure whether she meant it like it sounded, but the only reason I didn't rush to take her up on the offer was, one, I wasn't that easy, and two, they were small beds._

"Thanks, but that's not the problem."  
"Oh?"  
Before she could ask, and certainly before I could make up an answer, Engie popped out from the bedroom looking about as unkempt as I imagined I was. She squinted in the light, took her morning meal in her hands, and sat on the ground to tear into it. Watching her seemed to remind me what it was like to be human. I managed my shirt, brushed my curls over my ears, and cleared my throat lightly before officially offering Sam one of our survival meals.  
"Sure, I could eat," she said suavely, following me back to the doors of our storage shed. They parted for us, however, and Thompson's bare body scared me fully awake. Engie twisted around and, naturally, got distracted.  
"Morning, ladies. Looks like the suns' up," he said, peering at us rather than the horizon. I bet he was leading a response.  
He didn't get it, though. I snapped at him with the confidence that a nearby friend could provide. "Could you at least step aside and let us through?"  
To my immediate surprise, he listened, but I soon scoffed to see his level barrier was still blocking the way. Sam just smiled and playfully addressed its presence, "Put that thing away before someone gets hurt."  
Thompson raised his hands in innocence. "Hey, my hands are tied. He's got a mind of his—"  
My patience may have been the first to wear thin, but Sam didn't even let his sentence finish before she sidled past him, making that shaft wobble side to side like a swinging gate and Thompson standing straighter in what probably started as brief pain but noticeably ended in full excitement. From my angle, I could see his eyes following Sam, and returning with two meals, she paused in the doorway, facing him and indeed _touching him_, handed me one of the yellow packages, and then stared at the throbbing penis shamelessly resting against her stomach. "Mel, can I borrow your knife?"  
I would have given her it, but Thompson lost his fun more quickly, handled his erection off of Sam's body and stepped aside, clearing his throat brusquely. She passed me an annoyed look and we both claimed a spot on the ground to eat our breakfast in relative quiet.

When the doors opened again, Flint charged out from them like a full-powered mech. It scared me half to death, and Sam just chuckled quietly. The warg was out of sight when I came to, and Thompson stood in the doorway, much more relaxed than earlier.  
"Can't we get a table around here?" Engie asked him.  
A part of me wanted to suggest she make one herself, but Sam interrupted all of us. "Amelia, dear, where are your manners?"  
A tooth-sucking "_Tchk"_ and Engie became as smart as a mule. "What are you, my _mom?"_  
Sam didn't even bat an eye. "I'm more like your wiser, older sister," she replied collectedly. "And that's no way to talk to someone you want to get laid by." _Oh-hoh._ Engie lit up like a ship losing life support, and she sounded about as breathless, too.  
I looked at Sam like she had on a bigger set of balls than Thompson stood over there, musing over the argument. She just looked up at him. "You can see it too, right?" she brought him into it as Engie got up and walked off.  
"Hey, I'm just taking care of my own needs, here."  
I spoke up between them. "You both know she's too young for this kind of..._exposure._" I had _some_ idea how old she was, physically, but mentally she was _clearly_ on the innocent side of the spectrum.  
Engie wasn't out of earshot yet, and she yelled back, _at me,_ "I'm 26!"  
I raised my voice back to her in response, "Years in crypto- don't count!" I could have sworn I heard her mumbling to herself after that.  
"Keep your pants on, Melons," Thompson spoke up. "She's allowed to look if she wants to."  
"Yeah, **Mel**. I'm the only one with touching privileges~"  
I chuckled at Sam's audacity, but Thompson notably didn't correct her. If I'd turned to face him again, I probably would have noticed his enjoyment of the topic, but Engie's shriek changed all of that.  
"What is your monster doing to Mr. Fluffy!?" she screamed as she ran toward the soon-to-be gory remains of her precious, spoiled cat.  
I sighed a respectful moment of silence while Thompson chased her down, saying, "I'll make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."  
Sam gave me an inquisitive glance. "Uhh, what's this 'Mr. Fluffy'?"  
I kept my eyes on the chaos as I gave a curt response, "You mean besides the last shred of peacekeeping hope between you and Engie?"


	6. Minor Break Risk

_Flint, yeah. There's a story and a half around that one.  
...  
__The answer to_ that _question is sopping wet right in front of you.  
__But I can't just tell you how it went. It's not even what you think.  
__Well, maybe a little bit..._

Engie spent the rest of the day mourning, which included hiding in our barrack, hoarding meals to herself, and even an insulting spree against an honestly apologetic Sam. Not even a consoling hug from Thompson could shake her from the trauma she'd witnessed.  
I couldn't really empathize with her because, well, _if she was useless before..._ Let's just say it was better that she'd wandered off who-knows-where. I may be soft-spoken, but that girl needs some sense knocked into her.  
There was a lot to do. Sam assured us that there were more people around the globe: camps and tribes and whole unions of colonists. And like her, a lot of them traveled around in search of useful equipment that, strangely enough, commonly fell from the sky. Our landing was like a flare to caravans and raiding pirate bands alike. In short, we had to get on the defensive if we didn't want to just get picked up and dragged into slavery.  
It was a lot to take in. But I trusted her, probably more than I should have at first. Even Thompson agreed that our steel hut was only temporary, so he got a pneumatic drill in hand and started blasting his way through a slate mountain nearby. You know, for a guy without pockets or sleeves, he sure had a lot of surprises about him.  
While I lugged rocks out of his tunnel, we got to chatting and, well, he found out how much of a nerd I am. He took a break from digging just to build me a workbench so I could spend my time researching. A part of me complained. Physical labor seemed sorely lacking since Engie was being...NG. But he convinced me: if I could at least show him how to build a battery, he could finally set up that turbine, and then we could move on toward bigger and better things, mainly in the security department.  
Food production earned most of my worry. I thought it'd be great to get some hydroponics bays managing that. Aside from studying, though, I set up some growing zones and even went out to collect some indigenous berries, since little Miss Tantrum wasted half of our food supply on a binge. _Hey_, maybe that's where she ran off to. You don't just eat ten survival meals in a row and expect to hold it all in.  
Anyway, by our second evening, I was halfway along researching a breakthrough in electrical systems everywhere when I realized how late it was and decided to head indoors. Sam was right there, sat next to Flint. She was using a torch, the only source of light in the whole room, so naturally my eyes gravitated toward what she was up to. First I thought she was tinkering away at something behind him, but then I could see his hind legs were spread and she was digging around _in there_.

_Not so fast there, Randy.  
Let me finish._

"You, um, need some help?" I asked Sam, not even partly believing that I could provide her any.  
"Since you asked..." she started, eyes still glued to her work. I gulped.

_Snap!_

"Hold this." She lifted to me the strangest looking lightbulb I'd ever seen, and I gently took it in hand. I cradled it like it was the most important artifact in the history of mankind, though I couldn't help but see where it'd come from.  
"Uhh, Sam?" I paused, but she didn't answer. "What are you doing?"  
She stayed silent a moment longer, pinching her fingers into tight spaces. "Giving Flint a _much deserved_ upgrade." Oh, well, that answered everything. It's not every day you see a killer dog under the knife and learn that the secret to its success as a species is bionic internals. "Could you hand me that component?" she asked.  
I looked around, having no clue what I was looking for, before exhaling dumbly, "Uhh."  
Sam gave me an interesting smile. "Mel. You're holding it."  
I gave it over, blushing. As I watched her set it down in place and attach it, I felt myself going redder as I realized what _exactly_ that upgrade was. And luckily for me, we got interrupted before I could ask any more embarrassing questions. Thompson's free-bounding buddy almost bumped into me, and I realized I was still standing right in front of the door.  
"Waiting up for me again, I see," he teased.  
I was too flustered to walk straight, let alone to talk straight, but after nearly tripping over Flint and falling onto Sam's bed, I just cleared my throat and told the both of them, "Well. I'm gonna turn in early. Long day, you know..." I stayed awake on my bed for a while after, though, listening to Sam work away, and thinking: why in the name of Phoebe was she building a thing like that?

The next day, things went back to work as usual. I figured out how to hold a charge, and Thompson got to work on a wind turbine while I cleared some trees from the footprint. We ended up with so much spare wood, Thompson even promised us a table to sit at by nightfall! I was really impressed with his steadfastness. That night, we were charging a battery _and_ powering a lamp, which meant I could actually do my work _indoors_, now.  
Unfortunately... _**Un**fortunately_, we can't all have nice things, now can we? I was just organizing my notes on solar power when a clattering racket outside interrupted me. At first, I thought it might be Thompson putting something together, but the more I listened, the more...destructive it sounded. I hurried to the door, and there was Engie, attacking our wind turbine!  
I yelled at her to stop, asked her what she thought she was doing, but it was no use. She just kept hammering away at it _with that pistol of hers_ as bit by bit it started chipping away. Believe me, it was as frustrating to watch as anything, but for fear that she'd turn around and whack me with that thing, or worse, I had no other choice but to just call for help.  
Thompson, I later found out, was still slaving away inside "the mines," hollowing out _individual bedrooms_—I know, right? Sam was deconstructing a piece of our ship that had fallen somewhere nearby, and Flint was probably with her. It was just an utter travesty when the tower finally came crashing down and, to my further dismay, didn't take Engie out with it.  
I locked myself in the hut and screamed my guts out.

Come morning, I awoke to Sam knocking on the door. "Come on, Mel. You've been cooped up in there all night," her muffled voice tried reasoning with me. "Put your notebook down and come outside."  
I'd almost forgotten that I wasn't just locking Engie out. I had four beds to myself and all of the meals, and with my research bench in there, that was all the floorspace it could handle. I had two choices: eat breakfast without a table, or open the door and share some with the only person I could call a friend out here. _Which do you think I chose?_  
"Another rough night?" she asked as my bad hair greeted her in the doorway. I silently handed her a meal, which she surprisingly turned down. "Thompson's a real trooper, y'know that?" She glanced over at him, putting another wind turbine in place, and I finally paid attention to the miniature camp he'd set up. There were three more mystical, wooden beds, a wood-burning kitchenette, and even a sandbag wall around the perimeter. "He made this sort of...berry compote? It's a little sweet. Made me wish for some milk to wash it down, and then I figured, 'hey, I bet we could—'"  
"Hold on." I shook my head, noticing a certain someone was nowhere to be seen. "Wait. Am I the only one who thinks we have to do something about Engie?"  
Sam looked at me and smiled crudely. "You mean like force her into a bed and calm her down?"  
I frowned. "That wasn't...exactly what I had in mind."  
She continued, gently. "She had another break this morning. She went out on a walk, took a meal with her, and couldn't be bothered to walk back here to eat it. <strike>I mean, what gives?</strike> So...she came back complaining about not having a table and I just tackled her, dragged her to bed, and gave her some anaesthetic."  
_Ugh_. "You wasted our medicine on her?"  
"What? No. I've been picking xerigium wherever I see it. It grows naturally around here." I guessed she could read the confusion on my face, because she responded to it. "Seriously, girl. I thought you were into plants. Xerigium? The tribals call it healroot."  
"I _grow_ them. It doesn't mean I know what they're called out here on the rim."  
Sam just sighed and crossed her arms. "Have some breakfast and we'll set out."  
"Where...are we going?" I asked, sure that I should stay back and keep studying.  
"We're gonna tame us some muffalo."


	7. Masochist

I bit the line and held tight. After eating some of that fresh compote, of course. Sam was right: it made me crave milk, and hopefully we'd have some by the time my harvest came in. Before he headed back under the mountain, I'd thanked Thompson for the meal, but he assured me it was only something simple. "Just wait until we have some meat on the menu," he told me, smiling like he does. I didn't want to, I fought it, _the urge to look down at it_, aaaand then it happened anyway. Fuck. We separated, I the sore loser wearing a face marked in shame, and he **beaming** with pride.  
My cheeks must have held their color well because Sam called attention to my blush. "Someone really enjoyed her breakfast," she jested.  
I responded with a sigh heavy enough to flush my face back to normal. "It honestly wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't so...immature, you know? I mean, if I didn't have to put up with his gloating, I might _actually_ find him attractive."  
"I was talking about the berries, but OK~" We both knew she wasn't.  
"Sometimes I wish he'll just get it pinched in something and go back to wearing pants again." I was glad that she laughed with me.  
We kept up our conversation as we went off on our adventure, Flint tagging along like a proper guard dog. And even though Thompson was a sizable fellow where it counted—the image of it stuck in my memory—I couldn't help but wonder about Sam's companion trotting beside her. Neither of them led the other, and I'll admit it was kind of off-putting considering what I _did_ know about wargs. But I definitely wasn't prepared to see Sam install "that" piece into him.  
So, naturally, a lull led me to ask. "So what's his story?" I pried, watching the beast from Sam's opposite side.  
She glanced at me once and then looked down at him, too. "Oh, Flint? Whatcha wanna know?"  
I was hoping she wouldn't make me be blatantly direct about what I'd walked in on the other day, but I slowly caught on that Sam was just that kind of person. "I mean, well..." I hesitated, more than once, trying to dim my curiosity, "I thought...wargs were, you know, organic?" That's the word I wanted. Good going, me.  
Sam cocked her eyebrow and twisted her head at me, slowing her gait. "Organic?" she repeated, smirking. I looked back so innocently, I was almost certain she knew what I was thinking, and I had to look away. My eyes dragged over to Flint again, and more naturally than I could help, they gravitated toward his hindquarters. "You wanna know about that 'upgrade' he's got, huh?"  
We'd gone a decent ways from base, enough to make returning difficult at first glance, so you could say we were in secluded territory now, but I was still uncomfortable talking about it, for whatever reason. "I mean, it's not like it bothers me or—"  
"Yes or no, Mel," she stated, stopping dead in her tracks.  
I got really nervous and stuttered in the affirmative, "Y-yes?"  
Sam's eyes warmed up a bit, and I was sure she smiled, but I couldn't look at her for too long before my face reddened up again, I'm sure. "Everyone deserves a little fun in their life, don'tcha think?" She paused, but she didn't really wait on a response, lowering her glare upon Flint, who had just as easily stopped moving yet hardly gave us any due interest. "Nah, he was crushed under some wreckage when I found him. I treated him, an' he's been tracking by my side ever since. 'Course, he didn't heal up 100%, so I had to improvise with parts for him. His whole rear end is practically made of plasteel," she went on.  
"O-oh." I couldn't even tell from the exterior, but now that I looked under his tail, a couple things _were_ different than would be expected. "So, his guts,..."  
She finished my sentence, "Spleen, colon, bladder, hips, lumbar, sacrum, couple o' ribs. All bionic." Her neck swiveled toward me, again, and her gaze looked almost tired as she seemed to recall the surgeries. "I rerouted the waste line together, an' now I'm just working on the recreation bits. He definitely can't reproduce, but I'll be damned if it won't feel th'same for him. And, 'cause I can tell by the look in your eye, testicles are out of the question."  
"What?! I wasn't thinking about th—"  
Her smile hovered as she ignored me. "They're just so vulnerable, it's a wonder why they weren't internal in the first place."  
"I didn't ask about them!"  
"Of course, I'll have to refuel him manually—"  
"OK, now you're just doing this on purpose." She returned my glance, smiled and shrugged. "How long do you think it'll even be before we come across another warg?"

_Ah, innocence. I barely remember the days._

"Oh, I'm sure I can find a surrogate." To hear Sam say that just confused me, and to hear her clarify the joke really opened my eyes up; literally, as well. "Girl, you really think I'm doing all this for Flint to mate with a bitch in heat?"  
I stared at her, unsure that the answer was an obvious negative.  
Sam sighed. "Look, if you ain't figure it out yet, it's better you don't know." She started walking again, her and Flint passing me by, and I just stood there thinking what I'd missed.  
And then it hit me. And, honestly, it didn't bother me as much as it could have. In fact, the first thing I said to her after that really cemented our relationship from then on. "You're...ashamed?"  
She scoffed, but neither turned to face me nor stopped walking. "I am proud of my love interests. No regrets."  
"Then what are you afraid of?"  
"What makes you think I'm afraid?" Her voice naturally grew louder, but only because the space between us was growing. I only tailed her near enough to show I cared, but to be fair she was going on ahead with renewed purpose.  
"Maybe because you're running away from me?" I'm sure she rolled her eyes. Her head certainly bobbed when she finally turned about, casually making backward strides after that.  
"You know what I think? I think **you're** the one who's afraid," she responded, pointing fingers that made me feel back on defense. Though I hardly showed it. I just wanted her to be comfortable talking with me and, well, I'd probably set my expectations too high. "I think you just want to distance yourself from something you can't understand."  
"I...want to understand," I pleaded, somewhat. I couldn't tell her how attractive I found her. Her headstrong attributes really shone when she was being rubbed the wrong way, but I honestly wasn't doing it on purpose.  
She stopped. "But you can't. You either know it or you don't."  
I calmed down as I kept approaching. "What if...I know what I don't like?" I took a glance toward Flint and held onto it. "What if I need someone to introduce me?" Was I really asking for this? Honestly, more than anything, I wanted Sam to go on liking me. And I didn't really know what I was getting myself into, but if it made her happy, for whatever reason, I wanted to get that much closer to her through it.  
"You're serious?" she asked, wincing an eye and slowly interlocking her arms in front of her. "'Cause if you think this is funny, you're going to—"  
"I'm serious," I cut her off. I didn't need a threat to know when to keep a secret. I felt her eyes reading me for the longest time after that. "Just...promise me I won't get hurt?"  
I'd never been so pleased to see her smile again, though it came hand-in-hand with a curious fear. "Oh, now, what's a little pleasure without some pain, huh?"  
I shook my head and repeated gently, "...Promise me?"  
She rolled her eyes as I awaited an answer. "I'll **try** to keep it **minimal**." If that was the best I could get out of her, it'd probably be better if I just learned to toughen up.  



	8. Muffalo Self-Tamed

"Soo.... Is there anything I should know before we start?"  
Sam just looked at me like my head had rolled off my shoulders. "Uhhh, what are you talking about?"  
If that's how it's going to be... "Like, does he need time to warm up? He doesn't just jump into it, does he?"  
Even while she was bursting into laughter in front of me, I didn't know how stupid I'd sounded. "Mel, honey, you really are sweet and all, but I didn't mean **now**," she continued to chuckle.  
"O-oh, I knew that. I was just wondering..." I'm a horrible liar, and she could see it.  
Thankfully, she didn't put too much attention toward my naiveté. "Let's just worry about these muffalo for now, huh?"  
"Mhm!" There weren't any muffalo. That I could see, at least. There was a warg. I began to wonder if Flint knew we were talking about him. Sam said he'd enjoy himself, and I kind of wondered how she'd even been able to fashion a thing like...that for him. I'd held it in my hands without really knowing anything about it, but thinking back, I remember the exterior feeling like some sort of durable film. You'd laugh if I suggested hyperweave, but the more I considered it, the more fitting it seemed. Able to withstand the heat of friction, nearly resistant to tear. I couldn't really see the color against the backdrop of torchlight, but I'm sure it could have been—

"Mel!"  
I snapped out of whatever daze kept me from facing the herd. "Huh? I'm here! Hey, look, muffalo! How long have they been...there..." I smiled loosely and trailed off. I couldn't hide my stupidity, but I honestly hadn't heard a thing she'd said since, well...our agreement.  
"It'll be nightfall by the time we get back. C'mon." Three seconds later, she was handing me a bunch of berries.  
She smacked my hand before I could even raise one to my lips. "What?"  
"They're not for _you_," she expressed, her eyes diverting toward a nearby cow. "Pay attention. You might learn something." She approached the gorgeous lady and just started...talking to her. Like perfect strangers, I listened in on Sam's introduction, her compliments to the animal's coat. I watched her reach out and touch it and wondered if it was as soft as it'd looked. The muffalo responded with a turn of her neck and glassy eyes that locked on with shared interest. It was...beautiful. And Sam. _Sam,_ she just looked so _natural_ about it, casually giving out some berries, a cupped hand shoveled up to the creature's broad nose. Sure enough, she gobbled them up, and then, twisted her head and started to walk away.  
I felt a little tug of sadness, but Sam didn't seem to mind. She followed, giving some space to the huge bovine, but still offering it her full attention. She spoke clearly; she always did. But it wasn't anything I'd expected to hear someone say to _an animal_. She treated it like a _person,_ like it could understand her and she, it. She'd nod and coo once in a while, comment on the gentle lows she'd make, and then reward her with another handful of berries. _I could do that._  
My eyes scanned the environment to find the next nearest muffalo, and sure of myself I set off to try my hand at this. "Heeey! What's happening?" I chirped out to the chagrin of this lumbering mountain of snow. Her gaze acknowledged me for one moment and then returned to feasting on the bush in her beard. "You sure look hungry. How about a taste of these berries, huh?" I held them out, but the rude thing kept on ignoring me. Steadily, my confidence dropped, and I twisted around to see how Sam was faring. She was striding between two of them now, and it filled me with a seed of jealousy.  
I turned back to my mark and noticed that I was left behind! I bounded through the tall grass after the beast, "Hey, wait up!" I slowed down to a skip and pressed my hand to her coat, calling my attention to how delightfully fluffy that wool was. It was dense, too. I mean, there was just so much of it. My hand padded it in against her ribs and my fingers curled naturally around the strands. "Oh, wow! You're so soft!" I exclaimed, before a huffing breath bellowed the body against my hand. I _thought_ she was just being her own, mundane self, but that changed right away.  
"Hey! What gives?" I asked, nearly toppling aside as she bumped the side of her head into me. I took the next moment to hobble away from her before I noticed she'd started to give chase. _Crap._

_I probably would have been trampled that day if Flint wasn't there to save me.  
That's not to say Sam was any measure of useless. She was just so far off, and sound didn't travel well, especially when I couldn't take a breath to scream for help.  
But Flint.  
Whether canine senses or biotech implants, he probably knew something was wrong before the muffalo even did._

As I stumbled through the field, Flint came bolting toward me and growled his attack so suddenly, I thought _I_ was a goner. But as I fell to shield my fleshy bits, his barks were answered with grunting sighs and shrill murmurs. I continued to hide, crippled by fear that I'd either be eaten or stomped on, before Sam rustled the grass beside me and cradled me, hurrying me to my feet.  
"Shit, girl. You alright?" she asked, dragging us back to create some distance. I thought I was, but as my eyes glanced over the carnage of a warg taking down a mad muffalo, I thought I'd never get over the mental anguish. "Don't you worry. Flint can handle this."  
I gulped and trembled and shook my head before I could form a single word. "What...happened? I was just...petting her, and suddenly she snapped on me."  
"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault. It just happens, sometimes." I never quite liked confidential information, because somehow or other I ended up needing it. Unfortunately, Sam's promises that I'd get better at it fell on deaf ears. I didn't feel nearly as close to that muffalo as I could have been, but it was still traumatic to watch that beautiful white dress get shredded and stained and...  
I had to distract myself, especially when she finally collapsed. Flint didn't kill her, but he did more than make her forget her rage. Enough for Sam to leave my side, pull out her knife, and put the big girl out of her misery. I rested my eyes for a moment, rejuvenated my senses, and never looked back. Sam said something to Flint and then returned to me. I cleared my throat and stiffened up. "So...you get any?" I asked, watching the others milling about the field.  
"A couple, yeah," she answered, surprisingly modestly. I guessed she could read my discontent. "Don't worry. You can handle these two. I'll take care of the wild ones from now on, yeah?"  
I nodded silently, trying to ignore Flint's dragging a carcass twice his size back to camp. We started off, too, with a pair of wooly cows following in our wake. Sam kept up a chat, and I'd guessed they just naturally clung to her voice.

_Don't. Say. A word._

With the wind turbine coming back into view, I stopped dead and spoke up. _As if I needed to._ "Hey, uh, Sam? Don't, uhh..."  
"What," she replied calmly, and proving that she knew what I was going to say, finished my sentence. "Tell anyone about that back there?" I smiled lightly, and Sam gave me an even warmer smile. "Girl, you ain't gotta worry. I mean, if I ever invite you out again, I'm bringing a **gun**, but still...." She waved her hand flippantly. "They don't need to know."  
I sighed relief and shut my eyes briefly. I listened to the gentle trudging of hooves along the ground and occasional huffs, and as my nerves relaxed I opened my eyes again to see Sam and her two trophies flanking either side of her. _That girl._ Her affinity for animals was inspiring, to say the least. If I had just _half_ of her skill—

_Pt! __Oof._

My body lurched forward as something like a battering ram nudged my back pocket. "—the hell?" You can imagine my surprise when I turned to see a**nother** muffalo, stuffing its snout against the splattered remains of berries I'd tucked out of harm's way. "Hey, hey! Those are not for—" I backed away, but those pretty blue eyes had me beat in less than a heartbeat. I wiped my hand across my seat, gently enough to not make the mess of it any bigger <strike>from what I could feel</strike> and sighed once again. I cringed lightly as my hand was suddenly engulfed in the warm, sticky confines of a coiling tongue, stood absolutely still as it had its way with that pasty meal, and sighed for a third time. "At least you're not trying to kill me," I admitted before swallowing my fears and lifting a cleaner hand to pet the prominent skull tilting in front of me.


	9. Need Research Project

"Heey! An albino buffalo! ..._Two_ albino buffalo. ...**_Three _**albino buffalo." In case you were wondering, Engie can, in fact, count.  
"No, no. Just two," Sam replied, to which Engie raised a hand pointing toward me and mine. "Oh! Mel, nice job!"  
By that point, I was stumbling more than leading. Each time I tried to stop walking, the animal's nose bumped me before its tongue did the honors of cleaning my back pocket. Sam stifled a smirk and a chuckle and Engie just wandered alongside Sam's catch. "How do I get her to stop?" I voiced, mundane as ever, absently shoving the creature's head only to find my balance shifted instead.  
I'm sure Sam sympathized as well as she could, but it felt like forever before she offered assistance. She came between us and practically stole the beast's attention, much more roughly than I had tried. I knew it worked when I made three steps without any intrusion. While she spoke to it, I made my way toward the camp to see if I could snag a meal. I'd had enough of animals for the day. I looked forward to spending the rest of the night at my desk. And that's what I did.

I figured out how to keep a single plant alive without soil, and that was the tough part. All that remained was optimizing the system. Luckily, the door opened up before I could start into overtime and I realized how late it was. I figured it was Flint climbing into his usual sleeping spot, but _boy, was I wrong._ Before I had a chance to leap from my seat, the shack was filled with a cloud of white and, thankfully, only one muffalo claimed the floor for its bed.  
"Fuck me," I exclaimed, glancing once toward the mattresses Thompson had set up on our first night. Everyone else probably had a room to themselves, and for all I knew they were fast asleep already. "I guess you're as good a roommate as anyone," I told it. "Just...keep your distance and I promise not to turn you into a pillow."  
Within a few minutes, I was settled on my bed with my eyes closed.

When I awoke in the morning, I was warding off a migraine and hunger pangs all at once, and it was so bad that I hadn't even noticed my pants were down until I was standing to pull them back up. My eyes went wide and I looked around the empty room. One of our MREs lay shredded on the ground, but other than that there was nothing particularly suspicious to be found. I was caught so off-guard, I nearly peed myself when I heard a cow low on the other side of the wall. "Oh, for fuck's sake, get a hold of yourself, Melanie," I simultaneously told myself and listened. I convinced myself that it was probably just a _hot_ night. I was just glad no one else was around to _hear_ it.  
I brought my own MRE out to the table and found Engie sitting there, relaxing. Her eyes seemed _glued_ to Thompson, who was busy organizing a couple dozen fresh sirloins from yesterday's kill. Somehow, the blood all over his hands didn't bother her, but I could hardly lift my own eyes toward him. I had enough thoughts on my mind without listening to her cooing: "He cooks, he cleans, he digs, he builds. Is there anything he can't do?"  
"<strike>Put on pants?</strike>" I muttered between bites. She didn't hear me. She was too busy daydreaming.  
My thoughts strayed back to earlier. I'd never slept soundly through a hot night, so I really had trouble clarifying that part in my head. _Maybe I'd just loosened them and never went further?_ I guess I just wasn't ready to acknowledge the probability that someone else could have been responsible.  
Sam snuck up on me and shook me right out of my contemplation. Her hands were at my shoulders while I shuddered, tense. "We missed you last night," she spoke overhead.  
Engie turned to face me as well. "Yeah, Thompson made each of us a room. I've got a lamp and a dresser and a side table in mine," she gloated.  
"A dresser? For **all** the clothes you packed?" I teased her halfheartedly.  
While she defended her claim to comfort, Sam pinched me and reminded me not to provoke her. I only went back to my breakfast, finishing up by the time Thompson came around to join us. "Finally came out of your closet, huh?" he smiled at himself, and Engie's mood brightened immediately, too.  
I ignored him and called Engie out of her daze. "Amelia, honey, stop staring at it. You're gonna go blind." She just scoffed and pretended she _wasn't_ thinking about reaching out and _stroking_ it.  
"Give me the chance and I'll let you all see stars—"  
"Whoa—"  
"Hey!" Sam and I were quick to shut down his fantasy, it seemed, but it hardly dealt any damage to Thompson's ego. "Don't even kid about that," I continued.  
"Alright, alright!" he replied as Sam shook her head. "Just figured I'd put it out there."  
"Yeah. It's _out there_, alright..." Sam noted.  
Before they could follow that derailment any further, I took the reins and steered us in another direction. "Can we just...talk about **anything** else?"  
Engie chimed in, belatedly. "Wait, did you mean all of us, together?"  
"Amelia!" Sam and I sang in unison.  
"<strike>I was just asking...</strike>"  
Thompson was having a field day with us. I could tell by that sly look he always wore. As sure as he was to get on my nerves, though, he was at least mature enough to know when to stop. "How are things coming with your research?" he interrupted.  
I sighed and stretched. "I'm almost done. The basins won't take a lot of resources, but the sun lamp is going to make a huge dent in our power consumption. We should be able to supply it before the seasons grow cold here. And we're gonna need a room big enough to make one lamp worth using."  
"What kind of power are we talking?" he asked, finally taking on an air of discipline, even if he was still <strike>dys</strike>functionally nude. "You think a steam-vent would put out enough?"  
"You mean like geothermal? Should be enough to run the whole system, yeah."  
"Guys, hold up," Sam spoke up. "You're thinking way ahead of yourselves. We could just stock up a freezer and wait out winter like normal people. Besides, it's raiders you should be worrying about. What we need are some defenses, traps, better guns. Hell, auto-turrets would make things so much easier."  
"We can't manage turrets _or_ guns without a machining press," Thompson pointedly returned. I had no clue what was being argued. Frankly, I would have looked into making our own survival meals if it made both of them settle.  
"It shouldn't be too far from smithing. Listen, all I'm saying is, in the time it takes you to get a generator that turns super-heated air into wattage, we could at least be safe behind an automated defense system."  
"I guess she has a point. Maybe we can just build a few more wind turbines instead?" I clearly wasn't thinking with all cylinders.  
"One turbine is unreliable enough," Thompson said. "I still say we should get something more sustainable up and running, and if you want it done by winter, there's no better time to start looking into it."  
I was teetering between sides so bad, I just needed someone to make the decision for me. "Amelia? Anything you'd like to contribute?"  
"Huh? Oh, uhhh... Think we could get a TV?" _Brilliant. Why hadn't I thought of that?_


End file.
